I make a face, jerking my arm out of his grasp. He brings his fingers together, popping each knuckle individually, and studies a spot above my head.
“Do you realize how many girls would kill to be in your position right now?”
Shifting my weight from side to side, I purse my lips. “Why don’t you go hang out with one of them?”
“No refunds or exchanges when you leave the premises.” Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulls out a red cardboard ticket, holding it up in the light. “So sayeth the fine print. That’s where they get you.”
And of course, not reading the fine print of the guest book I signed is why I’m in this mess in the first place.
I stare at the ticket, then him. Waiting.
One of my eyebrows cocks, and his left one mirrors the movement.
He moves forward an inch. A small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. “You feel that?”
“What?”
“Fate.” He gestures between us. “It’s working right here, right now.”
Oh, good. My childhood crush is a crazy person.
“All I feel is annoyed.” My arm lashes out, shoving him back a step. “Would you mind… not watching me undress?”
Once again, he drags his gaze over my form slowly, the heat emanating from those gravestone-colored eyes warming me all over. “I’ll go check on the bagels.”
Pulling my phone from my purse, I clear the texts from Boyd and triple check for any from Mellie or Aurora. My heart sinks at their lack of communication, even though I know better.
Doesn’t make it hurt less.
As soon as Aiden’s disappeared through the curtain separating the kitchen from the storefront, I duck behind a rack of clothes and change quickly, praying to whatever omniscient being lives in the sky that no one else comes in.
Pushing the uncomfortable dress off my shoulders, I let the silky material pool at my feet, then step out of it and pull the pants up to my waist. Heaving a sigh of relief, I secure the drawstrings and fumble around for the top, my forearm tight against my breasts as I search.
And search some more.
My throat burns as the realization sets in that I don’t have a top to put on. Pushing into a standing position, I start sifting through the rack in front of me, trying to find something that isn’t a suit jacket.
“Jesus, what—”
I don’t hear the footsteps until they’re right at my side, and the sudden warmth seeping into my exposed skin startles me; I jump back, my foot hooking on a mop bucket, and then I’m falling.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I brace for impact against the floor, my hands flailing as I try to catch myself.
Instead of tasting tile, I’m jerked backward, my spine connecting with a bulky, stonelike surface.
One of Aiden’s arms wraps around my waist, pinning my hips so my ass is in line with his pelvis. The other brackets my ribs, almost crushing them as he hauls me up.
Panic tears through my chest, shredding my resolve like it’s nothing more than cheap ribbon. My breasts rest on top of his forearm, and it takes me a second longer than it should to realize.
A calloused hand grazes the sliver of puckered flesh that mars my abdomen; a fat, jagged mass stretching from the outside of my left hip to my belly button. Unmistakable evidence of the one night of my life I can’t remember, but when he touches it, I’m flooded with sensations.
Burning. Not of flesh, this time, or even gasoline. It’s an internal fire, singeing my organs as if clearing the path for new life.
His stubble grazes my temple, and I can feel him straining. Trying to see what he feels.
“What—”
My body tenses, my jaw locking as I wrangle myself from Aiden’s grasp, diving into the clothing rack like he’s held a flame to my skin.
His dark brows furrow, arms falling a full minute after I’ve left them, as though they’d already become accustomed to my presence.
“Where the hell is your shirt?” he hisses, moving toward me. Pausing, he seems to think better of it, and shrugs out of his jacket.
“You didn’t give me one!”
“Jesus Christ.” Letting his jacket fall to the floor, he tosses his cap and glasses down. Hooking his fingers in the hem of his hoodie, he whips it over his head to reveal a plain black T-shirt beneath.
I gape as he extends his arm, holding the hoodie out for me.
“Seriously? You want to argue about this too? You’re topless, angel.”
My chin lifts, defiance ebbing through me like a tsunami. I’m annoyed with myself for the way the evening’s panned out. Annoyed with the fact that he’s seen me in such a vulnerable state—felt the most vulnerable piece of me, even if he didn’t get a good look at it.
I’m tempted to search his gaze and find out just how much he saw. See if it changed the way he looks at me, but I don’t.
That way lies madness.
“Just put it on, please. The bagels will be done in a minute, and I really don’t feel like busting Ronan’s ass for looking at your tits.”
Jaw clenched, I snatch the hoodie from him and yank it on, untucking my hair from where it gets caught in the hood. I look ridiculous in the oversized clothes, but I’m more comfortable in them than I have been all night.
Aiden runs his knuckles over his bottom lip as I step out of the rack, his eyes darkening like melted silver. I throw my hands out and twirl with a wide, fake smile.
“Better, sir?”
His hand tightens into a fist, knuckles bleaching. “Much. Now let’s go.”
He puts his disguise back on and grabs a pair of slip-on shoes too big for me in the lost and found bin. Paying for them and a clean pair of socks, he hands the items over.
I push my feet into them, letting out the softest moan when I’m no longer constricted by my heels.
Draping my discarded dress over one shoulder, I wait at the counter while Ronan—a heavyset man with a white mustache—rings up the total. He shoves a paper bag in our direction, and Aiden swipes it from the counter at the same time he hands over a wad of cash.
“Keep it,” he says, holding a palm up when Ronan tries to return his change. His hand whips out, tangling with mine, and then he’s yanking me from the building and back up the street.
My fingers tingle where we connect, but I stuff the sensation down and blame it on excitement.
Definitely not fate.
I still struggle to keep up, my feet flopping around in the new-to-me shoes, and he’s practically sprinting up the sidewalk. We bump into people, and I whisper apologies as he drags me along, aware that they likely can’t hear my words.
He moves fast, with his head tucked into his chest, alternating between glancing back at me and at the crowd. If someone’s holding a cell phone to take pictures, or a camera points in our direction, he veers as far away as he can get, blending into the darkness.
We pass by the complex where the gala is being hosted, and I still do a double take to see if maybe Mellie and Aurora are scouring the outside for me. I don’t see them, and soon I don’t see anyone as Aiden snags a corner and crosses the street.
I feel the water before I see it; the air gets a little cooler, a lot cleaner, and soaks into my skin with a soft breeze. He releases my hand as we reach a dead end, and I wonder if this marks the finish line of our adventure.